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The Rise and Fall 



OF 



MARK REYNOLDS: 



31 domestic flag, 



IN FIVE ACTS 



By Warken Richardson 



/-r^oF CONG??; 




BOSTON: 


PRINTED BY THE AUTHOR, 


At his Printing House, 11 Milk Street. 


1868. 






MARK REYNOLDS, formerly a Locksmith, made $200,000 speculating 

in Petroleum stock. 
CLARENCE, his Son, a "fast" young man, developing rapidly. 
JACOB REYNOLDS, a New Hampshire Farmer. 
JERRY, his Son, only 15, but ripened to maturity. 
ALFRED CONINGSBY, of New Orleans. 
ROBERT JORDAN, a Stockbroker. 
UBIQUITOUS GREEN, a Master of Ceremonies — indispensable at a 

Fashionable Levee. 
HON. VARSOVIUS MILEAGE, M. C. of the Ninety-First District. 
ALDERMAN SANDBOY. 
SHARP, a Detective. 
PEDRO, a Servant. 
Gentlemen of the Levee, card players, black Waiters, hotel Servants, &c, 

MRS. REYNOLDS, ambitious to shine in Fashionable Society. 

FLORENCE, a young lady of sentiment. 

MADELINE,) ^ 

T TTCTT TV t Creole Sisters, from New Orleans. 

PHEBE, betrothed to Clarence, who has betrayed and deserted her. 
MRS. WORMLY, a votary of Fashion. 
MAGGIE, a Waiting Maid. 
Ladies of the Levee. 

Time — May to October, 1866. 

The Costumes change with the Scenes. Jerrt, in Act I, has a 
mixed-cloth suit, such as usually worn by boys of his age. In Act III, 
and thereafter, he dresses in a " nobby " style, but in goqjl taste. 

TMP9c-G07iiO 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, 

By Warben Bichakdson, 

In the Clerk's office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



THE 



RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. 



ACT FIRST. 



SCENE I. 

Room in Mark Reynold's House, gorgeously furnished. — In c, 
against the flat, is a handsome Buffet with doors, in which are 
several decanters of liquors, tcine-glasses, and a box of Albert 
biscuits. — J^asy chairs, ottoman, sofa ^c. — Door at r. — Two 
windows in flat, with drapery curtains. — Mirror at L. 

Enter Jacob Reynolds and jERiir, l. 

Jacob R. Ha ! we've got here with whole skins ; no thanks 
to the raih'oad folks. This is your uncle Mark's house, in Bos- 
ton. \_LooJcs around at the display.'] Whew ! 

Jerry, [throws himself in easy chair, c.] Awful glad, dad! 

Jacob R. Tired, eh? Well, 'tis a tough ride, seventy miles 
since six o'clock this morning. 

Jerry. O dad ! — it 's made me so awful hungry. 

Jacob R. You've done nothing but eat, eat, eat, since we 
left home. O Jerry — I wish you were n't such a glutton. 

Jerry. I'm growing, daddy. 

Jacob R. You ought to, a pound a day. Such an appetite 
would ruin a poor man. 

Jerry. That's why I want to get rid of it. 

Enter Maggie, r. 

Maggie, [to Jacob.) Mr. Reynolds will be with you in a 
few minutes. 

Jerry, [in chair.'] I say, Miss — can't you get a fellow some- 
thing to eat? Wouldn't ot)ject to a turkey drumstick, or any- 
thing of that sort. 



4 RISE AND FALL OF MA.RK REYNOLDS. [Act I. 

Jacob R. Hold your tongue, Jerry ! [Exit Maggie. 

Jerky. I will, dad, if you '11 put something on it. 

Jacob R. [observing the display.'] Bless me ! — what a pile of 
greenbacks these 'ere must have cost ! Extravagance ! — ^just as 
I expected. 

Jerry. I tell you what, dad, I'd just like to tie up here! O 
crickey ! wouldn't 1 though? 

Jacob R. I hope your uncle Mark's sudden wealth has n't 
turned his head. 

Jerky. I'd like mine turned the same way. 

Jacob R. [solus.~\ Humph! this is a big jump from the snug 
place Mark used to live, and call his happy home. Now he 's 
made a powerful lot of money, speculating in oil stocks, I'd not 
be surprised at anything he might do. So I thought I'd just 
come down and take a look at him, and see how things are 
going on. 

Jerry, [in chaii-.'] I say, dad, why don't uncle Mai'k show 
himself? 

Jacob R. [turns and goes vp.] Perhaps it's genteel to make 
folks wait when they come to see you. 

Jerry. He's coming — I hear him toddle. [Turns in chair.'] 

Enter Mark Reynolds slowly, (r.) in dressing-gown, smoking 
cap, and fancy slippers. 

Crickey! — isn't he stunning! 

Mark R. Ah, Jacob — how dye do ? [Extends hand.] 

Jacob R. [Retreats from him.] Eh ! you aint brother Mark ! 
He 'd never rig himself like you. No, no. 

Mark R. [chuckling.] Come, Jacob, if I've changed my dress, 
my heart is n't changed. I'm glad to see you. 

Jacob R. [Shaking hands ivarmly.] How's this, eh? [Looks 
him all over, and going round him.] Well, Mark — you 're the 
curiousest sight I've ever seen ! It's worth a quarter of any 
body's money to see you now ! Ha! ha ! [Pokes Markjollily.] 

Jerry, [in chair.] Hurrah, dad ! — hit him again ! 

Mark R. [turns in surprise.] Who's that ? 

Jacob R. That's Jerry. Come here, you rascal! 

Jkkry. [hounds out of chair and front of Mark ; bobs to him.] 
How are you, uncle Mark ? 

Makic R. [amused.] So, so. How are you ? 

Jerry. Tolerably well, considering age and infirmities. 

Mark R. How that boy has grown ! 

Jerry. Had nothing else to do. 

Jacob R. It is going on to six years since you saw him. 



Scene 1.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 5 

Mark R. He had just then donned his first jacket and trow- 
sers, and was trying hard to fill them. 

Jerry. I remember 'em, — pepper-and-salt color, and thun- 
dering big behind, to keep 'em from splitting out. \_All lcn(gh.'\ I 
say, uncle — got a good cigar ? Real Havana ; nothing else. 

Makk R. Jacob, you allow that boy to smoke? 

Jacob R. I wink at it. 

Jerry. I bet he does ! \_Swaggcrs up the stage.~\ 

Mark R. Talk about city lite hastening the development of 
boys ! — your town is the rankest of places, if he's a specimen. 

[Jerry amuses himself in examining everything ; goes to buffet, 
opens the doors, discovers several decanters of liquors, expresses 
pantomimic delight, takes out each decanter and tastes, tiien 
Jills a wineglass, takes out the can of Albert biscuit, helps him- 
self liberally, sits in chair and eats and drinks while the follow- 
ing proceeds.^ 

Well, Jacob, how are you getting on ? — prospering, of course — 
you always did. 

Jacob R. I get a living. 

Mark R. That's all any one gets. 

Jacob R. But then some live darned well! 

JNIark R. They are smartly taxed for it. 

Jacob R. So you 've made a lucky stroke, eh ? 

Mark R. [ With indifference.^ Yes, I've " struck ile," as 
the saying is. 

Jacob R. To the tune of a hundred thousand or so — eh ? 

Mark R. Somewhere near that figure, perhaps. [Crosses,] 

Jacob R. [^aside.^ He do n't like to talk 'about it, I see. — 
[a^oMc?.] Well, brother, I hope 't will be a good thing for you ; 
and no doubt it will, if you take good care of it. 

Mark R. [cZri"(y.] I'll take good care of it — no fear of that. 

Jacob R. Salt it down in real estate and mortgages; and 
perhaps some government stock. 

Mark R. Brother Jacob — for morfe than thirty years I have 
been a hard-working man, at the trade of a locksmith. Early 
and late, from Monday morning to Saturday night, and practis- 
ing a self-denial which allowed no luxury or amusement. During 
that time I accumulated a few thousand dollars — every cent of 
which was earned by the sweat of honest labor. I saw around 
me men living in luxury, increasing their gains by thousands 
faster than I could single dollars. A good friend persuaded 
me to put my little fortune in the favorite speculation of the 
day. " Nothing venture nothing have," is a good old maxim. 
My five thousand dollars soon became fifty thousand. Perhaps 
1* 



6 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. l_Act I. 

you, brother, would have been satisfied with that, and quietly 
settled down. 

Jacob R. Think I should ; can't say. Fifty thousand dol- 
lars is a pretty sum. 

Mark R. I ventured ray fifty thousand, and it soon brought 
me fifty more — and kept increasing from day to day. Then I 
made up my mind I'd take a little recreation, and see if I could 
not enjoy myself; and let me tell you, I do enjoy myself. \_Slaps 
Jacob on (he shoulder.'] 

Jacob R. Glad to hear it, brother Mark. 

Mark R. But never fear that any amount of money will 
change my affection for you. No, Jacob. \^T hey shake hands. ~\ 

Jacob R. To tell the truth — I rather feared it might. It 
often does, you know, even between brothers. 

Mark R. If you want any favor of me, you 've only to ask 
it, and I'm your man. 

Jacob R. Brother, that's kindly said. As you 've spoken 
out so freely, perhaps I would like to take advantage of it. 
There's a nice farm that adjoins mine, which I can buy for half 
its value, if I had five thousand cash. 

Mark R. You shall buy it; I'll give you my cheque for the 
amount to-morrow morning. 

Jacob R. Will you? \_yrasps Mark's hand.] Now that's what 
I call practical generosity, and no going round Uncle Ebenezer's 
barn, neither. 

Mark R. The avenues of my heart will always be open to 
you, brother. I shall never forget your kindness when I lost 
everything by my partner's rascality. 

Jacob R. That was twenty-five years ago. How time goes ! 

Mark R. I have not forgotten it. I'm glad of this opportu- 
nity to repay you. 

Enter Mrs. Reynolds, (r.) very showily dressed. 

Jacob R. Sarah — how dye do ! 

Mrs. R. \_curtseys stiffly.'] Mr. Jacob Reynolds ! 

Jacob R. [bows awkwardly, with mock politeness.] Of Clare- 
mont, New Hampshire — a plain country farmer. 

Mark R. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Come, Sarah, that '11 do. Jacob 
is n't a fool, nor a dandy. 

Mrs. R. I am glad to see you. 

Jacob R. [shaking hands ivith her.] Thank you; glad to hear 
you say so. [Mrs. R. moves to c. 

[During last minute Jerry has shown signs of intoxication. 
When Mrs. R. enters, he staggers toward her.] 



Scene 1.] rise and pall of mark Reynolds. 7 

Jerry. Hullo, aunt Sarah ! [7'nes to shake hands with her ; 
Mrs. R. turns from him.'] 

Jacob R. Jerry — behave yourself ! 

Jerry. Cert'ngly I will. I say, uncle Mark — firs-rate liquor 
you got, 'ticu'ly (he w-w-hiskey. Never thought I sh'd like whis- 
key, but it's b-b-ully. Ha! ha ! [^Pukes Mark in the ribs.'] 

Jacob R. \indig71ant.] Jerry — sit down ! You're drunk ! 

[Mark pulls bell-cord.] 

Jerry. Look here, dad — that's personal. Take care, old 
chap ! [^staggers.] 

Enter Maggie, r. 

Mark R. Show that boy to a bed-room. Jerry, go with her. 

Jerry. O yes — I go jes' where she say. [Zeers a/ Maggie, 
then tries to embrace her, but she dodges him.] Don't be skeered ; 
only want to kiss you. 

Jacob R. Go with her, instantly! 

Jerry. Of course I'll go. Lead the way, young lady. 

\_Exit Maggie, (r. d.) followed by Jerry. 

Jacob R. Your liquors are too handy, Mark. The boy never 
drank anything stronger than new cider. You'll excuse him. 

Mark R. Certainly, certainly. 

[Mrs. R. has seated herself in easy chair, and adjusted her dress 
so as to display the same to best advantage.] 

Mrs. R. Jacob, you little thought to see us so inoproved in 
circumstances. 

Jacob R. I did not — that's a fact. 

Mrs. R. Mark has sold his shop, and I hope has washed his 
hands at his old trade for good and all. 

Mark R. I won't say that, Sarah. 

Mrs. R. To tell the truth, Jacob, he does find the time hang 
rather heavily ; he is not fully reconciled to the change. Only 
last week he got up very early one morning and left the house, 
without saying a word ; and when he returned, sometime in the 
afternoon, he was a sight to behold ! [Mark laughs boisterously.] 
Covered with dirt and crock and grease, from head to foot ! — and 
smelling so horribly of boiled oil, as to make us all sick for three 
days afterward. [^All laugh heartily.] 

Mark R. That's true, Jacob. The fact is, for more than a 
week I'd had the blues horribly, and I thought that perhaps a 
few hours' smart work might drive them away. 

Jacob R. And did it? 

Mark R. So far off they've never returned. 



8 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. \^Act I. 

Jacob R. I'd try it again, if necessary ; manual labor is a 
darned sight better than physic, for nine-tenths of the afflictions 
men and women groan under. [^Door bell heard.'] 

Mark R. Come, Jacob — wife has got a caller ; — some of her 
new acquaintances, probably. We shall be in the way here. 

\_Exeunt Mark and Jacob, r. 

Re-enter Maggie, l. 

Maggie. Mrs. Wormly, ma'am. Are you at home? 

Mrs. R. Certainly — to her. \^Exit Maggie, l.] A very 
desirable acquaintance ; \_goes to mirror and adjusts her dress,] 
knows all the aristocracy ; husband got rich during the war — 
\_pulls folds out of her skirt] — held all the pork and hams in his 
own hands. \_Returns to c.J 

Enter Mrs. AVormly, l., dressed in extreme of fashion. 

Mrs. W. My dear Mrs. Reynolds — I'm delighted to see you ! 
How charmingly you look ! — what admirable taste ! [^admires 
Mrs. R.'s dress.] Elegant! [Mrs. R. motions her to easy chair.] 
No, not for a moment. I only called to say " how do," and fetch 
you tlie names I promised. \_Takes out paper and hands to Mrs. 
R.] You must certainly invite these to your Levee. 

Mrs. R. [unruUs tlie paper — a yard long.] So kind in you! 
Ah — I fear we shall be rather crowded with all these. 

Mrs. W. a jam is always fashionable. When people are 
inconvenienced, they generally express themselves freely. It's 
sure to bring out all the secret scandal of the day. By the 
way — you know Mrs. Violet ? 

Mrs. R. Whose husband is in California ? 

Mhs. W. For California substitute Sing Sing. 

Mrs. R. The penitentiary ! 

Mrs. W. Yes. — Sent there a year ago, for — I really don't 
know what to call it 

Mrs. R. Stealing.^ 

Mrs. W. No indeed! . . . Breach of trust. He was cashier 
of a bank, and one day was missing, Seventy or eighty thou- 
sand dollars were missing too. They easily found him — but not 
the money. His wife received a legacy from a deceased uncle just 
at that time. A three years' sentence to Sing Sing was the 
sequel. But the dear man took his confinement so seriously, his 
friends coaxed the Governor to pardon him, and he has just 
returned to his wife, in splendid health and spirits. . . I must 
go ; I've so many calls to make. Good morning. \_Exit l. 



Scene 1.] rise and fall op mark Reynolds. 9 

[Mrs. R. sits in chair and loohs over the list of names. — Clar- 
ence cautiously enters at L., looks round, then moves to C. JBis 
dress is disordered, and he looks dissipated.^ 

Clarence. [_aside.'] She's alone ; devilish glad the governor 
is n't here, [goes towards Mrs. R.] Ahem ! 

Mrs. R. [looks up.'] Clarence ! . . . How you startled me. 

Clarence, [throws himself on sofa.'] I'm used up ! 

Mrs. R. We've not seen you for a week. Where have you 
been ? 

Clarence, [coarse laiiffh.] Been on a "time." 

Mrs. R. a very sad time you must have had. 

Clarence. Glorious ! 

Mrs. R. [reprovingly.] I'm astonished. 

Clarence. Don't be ; 't is n't genteel. 

Mrs. R. Where have you been ? 

Clarence, [yawns.] Um — the most I know is — here I am ! 

Mrs. R. What a sight you are ! — I shouldn't have known you. 

Clarence. Then I ought to have introduced myself. Ex- 
cuse my neglect. 

Mrs. R. Tell me — where have you been ? 

Clarence. Well, I've been to New York. Several of our 
Club felt their periodical attack of the *' blues " coming on ; our 
doctor recommended change of scene. We went to New York. 
The effect was miraculous — the " blues " disappeared — or rather 
took another shape. " Like cures like," the homoeopaths say. 
But unfortunately, not knowing how to graduate the dose, we 
are "now suffering the allopathic effect of the treatment pre- 
scribed Where's father ? 

Mrs. R. In the smoking-room. Go and see him. 

Clarence. Not now. 

Mrs. R. Your uncle Jacob and his son Jerry are here. 

Clarence. That's bad. — What the deuce did they come 
for ! Hang country uncles and cousins ! They heard we'd got 
rich, and have come to see if they can't profit by the relation- 
ship. 

Mrs. R. Go and see them, if only a few minutes. 

Clarence. Uncle Jacob isn't iny style — he's too old fogy — 
wants everyone to travel on the square — makes no allowance for 

peculiarity of tastes By the way, got any money about you ? 

[Mrs. R. looks in her purse.] New York 's the crudest place to 
use up the greenbacks ! Never could see how poor folks 
afford to live there. 

Mrs. R. Here's forty dollars. [ Gives to him ; he thrusts it 
in his pocket without looking at it.] I fear you are very extrava- 
gant. 



10 illSE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. [_Act I. 

Clarence. O hang it, mother — you're always harping on 

that string! Do vary it a little, for the sake of harmony 

\_Rises from sofa, yawns.'\ What 's that paper ? 

Mrs. R. a list of those I shall invite to the Levee. 

Clarence. O yes, the Levee. Don't let me forget that, for 
I'm bound to shine on that occasion. Have music, pretty girls, 
dancing, — " we'll trip it on the light, fantastic toe !" Heiglio ! — 
[^ Cuts a pirouette and brings up against the sofa.~\ Confound 
it — barked my shin ! All out of practice ; must furbish up with 
an evening at Ma'am Folderols. \_Goes through a pantomimic 
polka and waltz, humming ^' Champagne Charlie."'] Whewl [^He 
drops on sofa.] 

Mrs. R. By the way, Clarence — where is Phebe ? We have 
not seen her lately. 

Clarence. \_Ri.ses from sofa, much disturbed.] JNIother, 
don't mention her name again. 

Mrs. R. \_goes forward.] How now? — what has happened? 
You used to be so fond of her, and she of you. 

Clarence. Say no more. 

Mrs. R. So you have left her, and broken your engagement? 
.... Clarence ! — Phebe is a noble girl, and worthy of any 
man's love ; and no sacrifice would have been too great to have 
retained her. Ah, you reckless boy ! — you have parted with a 
jewel of priceless value ! [ Crosses.] 

Clarence. \^aside.] If she knew all, how she would despise 
me ! [agitated.] 

Mrs. R. Some careless word that .passed, which caused 
offence, I'll warrant. Go to her, Clarence, and ask her forgive- 
ness, and bring her here again. 

Clarence. I cannot. 

Mrs. R. [Her hand on Clarence's arm — his face is averted.] 
Cannot?. . , . Is the oftence so irreparable that forgiveness is im- 
possible ? Ah, Clarence — it is pride that stands a barrier be- 
tween your love and duty ! . . . , Many a man and woman have 
sacrificed their life's happiness, and gone down to their graves 
broken-hearted, because their pride would not pardon some 
imaginary offence in those they loved ! [Exit through u. d. 

[Clarence slowly moves off h. 



Scene 2. kise and fall of mark Reynolds. 11 

SCENE II. 

Chester Park, with Washington Street in the distance. 

Enter Phebe, l. 

Phebe. (l.) I have been walking back and forth a long 
while, for I must see Clarence once more, and make a last 
appeal, to save me from impending disgrace and shame. Oh! 
what have I not suffered for him! But now he spurns my 
love, and leaves me to meet my sorrow and trouble as best 
I can. [ Weeps — moves to c] 

Enter Clarence, r. 

Clarence. Phebe ! 

Phebe. [looks at him imploringly ; he turns aside.'] Clarence! 

Clarence. So you lay in wait for me in the public street ! 

Phebe. (c.) Clarence Reynolds — look at me ! — Observe me 
well. Think how soon the time will come when I may, perhaps, 
yield up my life a sacrifice to the weakness of loving you too 
well ! Clarence, I implore you, make me the reparation you 
owe to my love for you. It is not too late. Think of the shame, 
the disgrace that must await me, if you refuse me that justice 
I have a right to demand of you ! 

Clarence. Phebe, I am willing to provide for you in any 
way you ask. 

Phebe. Make me your wife. Less you cannot do. 

Clarence. Impossible! 

Phebe. Why impossible? Did you not solemnly promise 
it? I ask you on your honor. 

Clarence, [wweosy.] Lovers often promise more than they 
can fulfil. 

Phebe. Not when their love is pure, and their purpose hon- 
orable. 

Clarence. I am willing to comply with any reasonable 
proposition for your comfort, but I cannot marry you. 

Phebe. And why not ?. . . . 

Clarence. Because I — I — do n't choose to. 

Phebe. Then there is but one other way for me to turn, — 
and that is self-destruction. 

Clarence. O Phebe, don't do that. I tell you I am willing 
to do all I can for you ; but, really, you ask too much. 



12 RISE AND FALL OF MARK RETNOLDS. \^Act 1. 

Phebe. Too much ! Is not my honor superior to all else ? 

Clarence. You know I have but a small allowance — ^just 
enough to keep me decently in a few enjoyments — father is so 
devilish close-fisted 

Phebe. Oh, do but save me, and I will work — work — from 
morning till night. My hands shall have no rest ; I will slave 
as never woman slaved, if I may only have the name of wife ! 

Clarence. \affecled'\ Phebe, you work me all up! 

Phebe. O say you will — you will — dear Clarence. It was 
love for you that brought me to this ! 

Clarence. Damn it, Phebe, why did we ever meet? 

Phebe. Alas — I was happy once. Before — before — \y)eepf\ 

Clarence. There — there — I'll not desert you. 

Phebe. O Clarence! \looks «/).] 

Clarence. That is — unless you compel me to. 

Phebe. Dear Clarence, \_approaches to his side'\ my love for 
you has been warm and true, and always will be. Show me but 
the opportunity, and you will then see how deep my love has 
taken root, and how great the sacrifice I will make for your sake. 

Clarence. I don't know what to do. I — I — hang it, I 
never so thought of it before. Any way, you must take this — 

you '11 need it ; and perhaps — but I won't say sure [takes 

crumpled bills from vest pocket and hajids to her.'] 

Phebe. Clarence! 

Clarence, [returns hills to pocket.] O well — but you see I'm 
willing to do all I can for you. 

Phebe. Then you refuse me justice I 

Clarence. I certainly cannot marry you. 

Phebe. [with calmness.] Be it so. I have appealed to 
your love, your honor, your humanity, to justice only — but 
all in vain ! and never more will I cross your path, or ask a 
single favor at your hands. But mark me! — Whether I die in 
my approaching trial, or by the suicide's death — or go from 
hence branded with shame — it is you that will be held account- 
able, at the bar of a tribunal from which there is no appeal ! 
[Her hand is raised. — Clarence bows his head in shame.] 

[Curtain slowly falls to sad music. 



END OF ACT FIRST. 



Scene 1.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 



ACT SECOND. 



13 



SCENE I. 

Same as Scene 1 , Act I. 

Mrs. Reynolds and Florence discovered. 

Mrs. R. Now that you have returned from New York, with 
the dresses we had ordered for the Levee,— t t* 

Florence. -Made by the celebrated Madame La Bou- 
nueti^re, formerly modiste to the Empress Eugenie. 

Mrs R -We have decided it shall take place Wednesday 
nex I expect Mr. Green, the celebrated Master of Ceremo- 
"ies, will call this morning, to confer wUh me m regard to the 
nroc^ramme of the evening's entertamment. 

^Florence. With his well-known skill and experience, we 
may feel sure that everything will pass off with splendid success^ 

Mrs R. Yes ; some men have a genius for one thing, and 
some for another,-Mr. Green's genius is in managing levees, 
weddings, and funerals. 

Enter Pedro, l. 

Pedro. Mr. Jordan, l^^^^-^' '''''^' ""''^''''''^''^xUY^.^^^ 

Florence. Come to congratulate me on. my return, and my 
escape from the dreadful accident that was to befall me 

Mrs. R. Mr. Jordan is a promising man-shrewd, shaip 
and far-seeing-he '11 soon be a millionaire. Your father and I 
have often hoped that you . ^ 

Florence! [interrupting.-] How provoking you are!- Yoa 
know Pve decided to accept Colonel Coningsby. 

Mrs. R. Nevertheless, Mr. Jordan has our preference. 

Enter Jordan, l. 

Jordan, [bowing-] Good morning, ladies. I c^gratulate 
vouMi.sRevnolds, on your safe return from New York. To 
^rih';: and' back with'out accident, in these days of reckles. 
railway management, is almost a miracle. 

2 



14 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. \^Act II. 

Mrs. R. It is indeed. 

Jordan. We pride ourselves on being " fast." If we can 
save ten minutes' time in a journey of two hundred miles, we '11 
risk our chance of being drowned, roasted, or mutilated out of 
all semblance to humanity. 

Re-enter Pedro, l. ; gives huge card to Mrs. R. 

Mrs. R. [reading the card"] " Ubiquitous Green, Master of 
Ceremonies." I will see him. \_Exit Pedro. 

Jordan. Ubiquitous Green ! — general major-domo and chief 
factotum to the glittering frivolities of fashionable life ! 

[Jordan and Florence go up the stage and converse, while 
the following proceeds.^ 

Enter Ubiquitous Green, l. 

Green, [hows low.'\ At your service, madam. 

Mrs. R. Mr. Green, I presume. 

Green. Christian name — Ubiquitous, which happily signifies 
here, there, and everywhere. It's not often a man owes any 
thanks to his parents for his name, but I do. There my grati- 
tude ends, however, for it's all they ever did for me. 

Mrs. R. [hands paper to Green.] A list of those I intend to 
invite to the Levee. 

Green. [taJces the paper.'] Oh — ah — [looks at it, his counte- 
nance alternating with disgust and approval, as he glances down 
the list.] Um — um — u — u — m — m! [folds the paper.] Excuse 
me, madam, — may I ask who gave you this list ? 

Mrs. R. My friend Mrs. Wormly. 

Green. Ah — indeed, [as he returjis paper to Mrs. R.] All 
highly respectable people, 1 've no doubt. 

Mrs. R. I want none other at my house. 

Green, [shrugs his shoulders.] Too respectable, madam. — 
Quite too respectable, if I may be allowed the expression. 

Mrs. R. [aside.] What a singular man ! 

Green, [at his ease.] The fact is, madam — society is — 
society ; and fashion is — fashion. If you will pardon me, I will 
take the liberty to enlighten you in regard to certain essential 
requisites for success at one's entrance into fashionable society. 
[Mrs. R. nods acquiescence.] Thank you, madam. The first 
requisite is — money. That you have. The next is — the selec- 
tion of your acquaintance. Fashion is an arbitrary tyrant, and 
sanctions some peculiarities that moralists would not approve. 
To jump to the point: — If you want a popular levee, you must 
invite popular people. 



Scene 1.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 15 

Mrs. R. Very true. 

Green. So far so good. Now, madam, in fashionable society, 
popular people are — popular persons — who are as follows : 
^^Illustrates with gestures, as he proceeds.l^ A member of Con- 
gress who has sold himself and his constituents for a valuable 
consideration. [Mrs. R. nods approval.^ An Alderman who has 
enriched himself at the expense of the tax-payers. [Mrs. R. 
scDue play.^ One or two genteel swindlers, including a bank 
president or cashier, or a railroad president. [Mrs. R. as before.^ 
A speculator in breadstulFs, who has got rich by hoarding flour 
till it rose to famine prices ; a successful gambler — either in gold 
or at the green table. [Mrs. R. as before.'] A well-selected assort- 
ment of gay young men, who are famous lady-killers, [^aside'j — 
Immense favorites with sentimental girls! [<o Mrs. R.] And a 
sprinkling of harmless people of both sexes — including a sensa- 
tion preacher, a strong-minded woman, and a silent philosopher. 
[Regards Mrs. R.yb?- approval.] 

Mrs. R. \Jaug]dng.~\ A very singular collection ! 

Green. Success and mutual gratification will inevitably re- 
sult. Vanity will be tickled by flattery ; knavery encouraged by 
adulation ; and music, dancing, card-playing, eating, drinking, 
and scandal, will harmonize all conflictions, and give an enter- 
tainment agreeable to all. 

Mrs. R. \_amused.~\ Very well ; I place the entire manage- 
ment in your hands. 

Green, [bowing.] Thank you. Consider the levee a perfect 
success ; and the next morning enjoy the encomiums of the news- 
papers on your triumphant entrance into fashionable society. 

Mrs. R. [pleased] That will be delightful ! 

Green, [his tnajiner changed.] Let me see — you have 
decided on next Wednesday. To-day is Friday. I will send 
out the invitations tomorrow morning. 

Mrs. R. Three days' notice will be suiHcient ? 

Green. Quite. Fashionable dressmakers have a way of 
persuading their girls that rest or sleep is n't of any consequence 
when society require their services. 

IMks. R. The refreshments — wine, champagne, and so forth? 

Gkken. My facilities enable me to provide everything nec- 
essary for a first-class levee for a thousand persons, at one day's 
notice. 

Mrs. R. And the music ? 

Green. Signor Tinpanti, and his masterly band, will give 
eclat to any levee. 

Mrs. R. Spare no expense. 

Green. None shall be spared. 



16 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. \^Act 11. 

Mrs. R. And on Saturday morning come with your bill, and 
my husband will cash it. 

Green, [boios low.'] Madam — your remarkable talent for 
business commands ray unqualified admiration ! [bows several 
times., backing towards L.] Your very obedient servant. Good 
morning. \_Exit L. 

Mrs. R. Very eccentric man. Has great talent for his pro- 
fession. 

[Jordan and Florence come forward. — Jordan looks disap- 
pointed ; Florence serious.] 

Jordan, [aside to Florence] May I hope at least to retain 
your friendship. It is the only consolation left me. 

Florence I shall ever regard you with esteem. 

Jordan. A thousand thanks. Adieu ! 

[Bows to ladies and exit L. 

Florence- [aside.] A noble disposition ! 

Mrs. R. I perfectly agree with you. 

Florence. mother-:— I forgot you ! 

Mrs. R. So gentlemanly, too. Your father says he 's very 
successful, and will be immensely rich. I'm glad to hear you 
speak so well of him. It may lead to something more. 

Florence. No, mother, I shall never marry any one but 
Colonel Coningsby. 

Mrs. R. a rash assertion, my dear. No lady is certain who 
she will marry until the parson has tendered his congratulations. 

Florence. Colonel Coningsby possesses those qualifications 
that command universal commendation. He is rich, accom- 
plished, and very agreeable. 

Mrs. R. So is Mr. Jordan. 

Florence. Colonel Coningsby is my choice. 

Mrs. R. Mr. Jordan is mine. 

Florence, [pertly.] Mrs. Colonel Coningsby or Miss Flor- 
ence Reynolds. [Exit R. d. 

Mrs. R. Infatuated girl ! .... It is surprising how readily 
young ladies are taken by the military*! — especially if he's a 
gallant colonel, or a brigadier-general. They are received with 
open arms, and suri-ender so completely as to quite forget the 
customary demand for terms ! [Exit R. D. 



-Scene -2.] rise and fall op mark Reynolds. 17 



SCENE II. 

Room in a Hotel. — Table and two chairs at C. — On table is 
cigar-stand, with matches, ^-c. 

Enter Alfred Coningsby, r. 

\^Has an open newspaper in hand. — Goes to table, takes cigar 
and lights it ; sits in chair.~\ 

^.^ONiNGSBY. Feel devilish good-natured this morning. Three 
days ago I came across a couple of spoonejs, with more cash 
than they could conveniently manage, and I've taken them under 
my special protection, to initiate into the mysteries of intricate 
finance. [j>uffs-~\ Last night I gave them their second lesson, 
and relieved thera of a thousand apiece — which makes about 
four thousand that has changed from th«ir pockets to mine, — a 
slight difference of locality that raises my spirits while it does 
not depress theirs. \_pi'ffs.'\ Another stroke of good luck: have 
become intimate with a pretty girl whose father has just slid into 
a fortune of half a million, through the lubricating power of 
Petroleum. She 's full of love and sentiment, and has an 
immense stock of affection seeking a good investment. \yyffs.'\ 
Haven't fully decided whether to take another wife before I get 
rid of the present Mrs. C, or play the ardent lover, propose, 
get accepted, make all pi'eparations for marriage, borrow a hand- 
some sura of the old gent., and take French leave, the devil only 
knows where. \_S)nokes. — A knock is heard.^ Come in ! 

Enter Clarence, l. 

Ha! — good morning, Clarence. Glad to see you. \_gets up and 
shakes hands.^ Take a cigar, [^resutnes his seat.^ 

Clarence, \_ivhile taking a cigar and lighting it.^ Thought I 
should find you in at this early hour. Folks expected you at the 
house last evening, [^sits in chair in easy position.^ 

Coningsby. Bad headache. Turned in early and slept it 
off. All right this morning. Florence is well? 

Clarence. \^nods acquiescence after a fexo pt(ffs.~\ Colonel, 
I've just bought a new horse — paid fifteen hundred for him — or 
agreed to — and I'm going to try him this morning, on the Brigh- 
ton road. Won't you take a seat with me behind him ? 

Coningsby. Yes ; what time are you going ? 
2* 



18 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. [^Act II. 

Clarence. [/??<^«] By the way — I want your advice about 
a little atFair I have in hand. 

CoNiNGSBY. Well : . . . . I'll wager a V there's a la<Jy in the 
case. 

Clarence, [laughs.'] You're right, Colonel ; there is a lady 
in the case. To tell the truth, there are two ladies in the case. 

CoNiNGSBY. I see — you're puzzled which to choose. 

Clarence, \_after a pause.] To go back a little, — there's a 
certain young lady I've been engaged to for a year or so, which 
I intended to make Mrs. R., but as circumstances changed with 
me they caused a change in my sentiments toward her. 

CoNiNGSBY. And you want to make another change? 

Clarence. Yes; but unfortunately; eh? — can't you 

guess what's the matter ? 

CoNiNGSBY. My advice is, do the honest thing — marry her. 

Clarence, No ; I won't do it, and I've told her so. 

CoNiNGSBY. Devilish candid in you ! 

Clarence. The fact is, she does n't exactly suit me. She's 
not stylish enough. 

CoNiNGSBY. [throws down cigar, and gets up.] You young 
fellows are heartless wretches! — You despise the true affection 
of a noble-hearted girl, and throw yourselves away on a vain and 
senseless doll, whose only merit is a pretty face. 

Clarence, [laughs.] Colonel — that's a practical moral 
speech, that would elect you to an honorary membership in evei-y 
moral reform society in the country. Such healthy sentiments 
ought to have immense influence — only they don't. 

CoNiNGSBY. There 's something in that paper which you 
ought to read, and digest. [Clarence laughs. — Coningsby takes 
the paper from the table and looks it over.] Here it is. [hands to 
Clarence.] 

Clarence, [refusing it.] Bah ! I never read newspapers. 
[gets up and goes forivard.] 

Coningsby. Then listen while I read it. 

Clarence. Wait a minute ; I'll light another cigar, [takes 
another cigar and lights it.] Go on ; I'll hear you. [smokes.] 

Coningsby. (c.) [Reads.] " Sad attempt at suicide. Last 
evening, about ten o'clock, a young lady was seen to throw herself 
from Warren Bridge into the water. [Clarence removes cigar 
and is all attention.] Two gentlemen who were passing, simulta- 
neously rushed to her rescue, and after considerable difficidty they 
succeeded in saving her, and with the assistance of a policeman 
brought her safely to land. When she came to consciousness, she 
begged her preservers to leave her to her fate, for she had deter- 
mined to die. It was the old story. She had been betrayed by 



Scene 2.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 19 

some scoundrel, who had accomplished her ruin and then deserted 
her. We are hapjjy to slate that she has found kind friends in 
two ladies who were passing in a carriage at the time." \Ci.kr- 
'ENCE stands tra7isfixed.^ Sad, isn't it? [^Puts paper on table, 
and takes another cigar, and lights zV.] 

Clarence. [as«We.] It was Pliebe ! — I feel sure of it. 

CoNiNGSBY. [af tabh.'] The rascal who betrayed her deserves 
lynching. Do n't you think so ? 

Clarence, [abstractedly.'^ Yes, yes. [aside.'] My cruel 
desertion drove her to it. O Phebe — Phebe ! [Exit l. 

CoNiNGSBT. Ha ! DeviHsh odd ! — ^gone off without saying 
where I'm to meet him for that ride. 



END OF act second. 



20 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. [^Act III. 



ACT THIRD. 



THE LEVEE . 

Scene represents the garden and back of a handsome res- 
idence. — I?i centre is a high porch^ with an inclined' 
plane doum to the garden. — A fountain is opposite^ and 
large flower-plants disposed around it. — The drawing- 
room of the house, ivhicli extends across the stage, is 
used for the ball. — Doors r. and L. lead into the 
garden. — On R. and L. are trees with Chinese kuiterns. 
Cages of canary-birds are hung from the branches. — 
On R. are two card-tables with players. — 0?i L. is a long 
table, extending up and down the stage, with refresh- 
ments, wines, champagne, and bouquets of flowers. — 
Three black. serva?its stand behind table and wait on 
the guests. — The company come out of L. door to the 
table, and return, during the scene. 

When the C^irtain rises it displays the ball-room 
and the company, seen through the two doors R. and L. 
and c. entrance — Ubiquitous Green is seen introdu- 
cing the company to each other. — Music from the ball- 
room, which co7itinues duriiig the entire scene, with rise 
and fall as the play progresses. — Clarence is seated 
at card-table at R., engaged hi play. All the company, 
male and female, are dressed in the extrem,e of fashion 
at that period, (1866,) with several grotesque costumes. 

Clarence, \rises from table, ihrotcs down his cards, and goes 
forward.^ Euchred again ! Fortune is against me to-night. P"'ive 
hundred dollars used up the last half-hour. Ha ! " time is 
money," and a good deal of it, too. I'll take a few turns in the 
waltz, to stretch my legs, and then try my luck again. [Coes up 
through C. and disajipears.^ 



Scene 1.] rise and pall of mark Reynolds. 21 

[Jordan comes from ball-room through R. D., loiters around 
as if abstracted, then to front.'] 

Jordan. The secret of my rejection by Miss Reynolds is 
explained. She is in love with Colonel Coningsby, and is so 
fascinated by his attentions that she sees no one but him. \_Turns 
and sees Coningsby- and Florence coming from ball-room, 
through c] They are coming this way. I will step aside, and 
for once will play the listenei*. \_Reiires in rear at R.] 

[Coningsby and B"'lokence stroll down. — She has Coningscy's 
arm. — They stop at the fountain ; as Coningsby turns to 
adynire the scene, Florence leaves him and goes forivard.~\ 

Florence. Mr. Jordan is here, and seems much disturbed 
'by Colonel Coningsby's attentions to me. Whichever way I 
turn, I encounter his earnest face, which wears a look of sad- 
ness painful to witness. 

Coningsby. [approaches Florence.] This is indeed enchant- 
ment, and realizes the illusions of fairy-land. How w^onderful 
the power of Art, when combined with the embellishments of 
Nature ! And dwelling in this beautiful paradise, surrounded 
by every indulgence that wealth can procure, and possessing 
health, talent, and beauty, — what may you not command ! [turns 
aside.~\ 

Florence, [aside.] How his words thrill me ! 

Coningsby. [ivith diffidence.] There are chords in the human 
heart that for years may lie dormant, and show no sign of 
their existence ; yet if touched by the soft sweet melody of sym- 
pathy, they awake to action, and from that moment the whole 
being emerges into a new life — the life of Love — where joy and 
pleasure sit enthroned. [Florence enraptured.] Love leaps 
all barriers, and always gains the race ; the peasant's child may 
mount a throne, and grace it too. In the lottery of life, youth and 
beauty win more prizes than wealth and ambition. Alas ! what 
is wealth, and all the riches that men pursue, when weighed in 
the balance with an empty heart ! [Jordan near.] Florence — 
two short months ago we were strangers to each other ; chance 
made us friends ; and friendship has ripened into love. Can it 
not be nearer still ? . . . .A word from you, and the life before me 
will be bright with joy, or dark with despair. Which shall 
it be.? 

Florence. Alfred ! — [gives her hand.] 

Coningsby. [seizes it with rapture and conveys it to his lips.] 
O noble, generous Florence ! — now is my happiness complete ! 



22 KISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. [Act III. 

The future, with its golden promises, shall redeem the blank 
realities of the past. Henceforth, my Florence shall be the star 
that guides ambition to success, in all that tends to happiness and 
mutual love. 

[^fle draws he)' arm within his, and as they turn to go up the stage, 
Jordan crosses their path. — Looks at Florence, who turns 
aside. — 7'hei/ disappear in the hall-room.'] 

Jordan. What did I hear ! — Florence, my Florence, whom 
I have known since childhood, and looked forward to call mine, 
now the affianced of Colonel Coningsby — an adventurer, of whom 
no one knows. To be thrust aside by him ! — Oh, I can not, 
will not submit, \_affected.'] 

Mark R. comes down from hall-room, and r. of Jordan. 

Mark R. [not seeing Jordan's emotion.'] Everything is going 
on splendidly, Jordan. All the company are in glorious spirits, 
[sees Jordan u disturbed.] Hullo! how's this? \_pats Jordan 
familiarly on the shoulder.] 

Jordan, [recovering his spirits.] Excuse me, dear Reynolds, 
— it 's a bad headache. 

Mark R. [aside.] I'm afraid it's more the heart! [<o Jor- 
dan.] How's our stock ? — Shall we make a handsome corner ? 

Jordan. It looks so now.. . .Went up a dollar more to-day. 

Mark R. [i-uhs his hands.] Glorious ! for every dollar it gives 
me ten thousand. 

Jordan, [lugubriously.] And if it falls you'll lose that figure. 

Mark R. Plutus forbid ! 

Jordan. By Saturday we'll be ready to put on the screws. 

Mark R. [laughs.] And we'll do it handsomely, too ! Come, 
let's have some champagne. There's nothing like champagne for 
putting pluck into a man. [Puts his arm through Jordan's and 
they go to table ; after drinking, Jordan disappears through L. d. 

Mileage and Sandboy enter through l. d., go to table and 
drink. — Ubiquitous Green comes down through centre, in 
high spirits. — Mark R. goes to him. 

Green. Reynolds — we are having grand success. All the 
company are in tiptop spirits. 

Mark R. Splendid ! — splendid I 

[Loud laughing at refreshment table.] 

Green, [looking towards table.] The Honorable Varsovius 
Mileage. He's a splendid fellow. I'll introduce you. [goes to 



Scene 1.] rise and fall op mark retnolds. 23 

Mileage and nods towards Mark. — Mileage leaves table with 
Green, and goes to front. — He has a bottle of champagne in his 
hand.^ 

Mileage. Reynolds — how are you ? know you well, [^seizes 
Mark's hand and gives a series of tremendous shakes.^ 

Mark R. [flattered.'] Oh !— ah ! 

Mileage. I pride myself in knowing more people than any 
man in the country. I know all my constituents. 
• Mark R. Indeed ! 

Mileage. And they all know me, too! Ha! ha! ha! [to 
Mark confideiitially.'] It's not my style to brag — but I com- 
menced life at the lowe?t round of the ladder, sir. I used to 
work for a living, sir — think of that ! And I'm now Senator to 
Congress from the famous Ninety-first District. Your health, 
Reynolds. [Drivks from the bottle.] 

Mark R. [aside to Gkeen.] A remarkable man ! 

Green. Very remarkable, [to Mileage.] That was a great 
speech of yours, on the Ojibbeway Corruption bill. 

Mileage, [pleased.] Had the true patriotic ring — didn't it? 

Green. Echoed the sentiments of every honest man. 

Mileage. You'll be surprised when I tell you tliat I made 
enemies by that speech, for 1 saved the country a million of 
dollars! — [aside] and put ten thousand in my own pocket. 

Mark R. What noble and disinterested patriotism ! 

Mileage. The fact is, Reynolds, I'm not one of your bloated* 
aristocrats, who draw the life-blood from pure Democracy — I 
mean the people. If there's anything I'm proud of, it's my hum- 
ble origin. — I glory in it. I'd have you know that I sprang from 
the lowest rank of life But where am I now ? 

Green. Here ! here! 

Mileage, [pokes Green with bottle.] — Senator to Congress 
from the famous Ninety-first District. — That's what I am. Your 
health, gentlemen ! [Drains the bottle.] Good champagne that, 
Reynolds. 

Green, [aside.] Jersey cider, at three dollars a dozen ! 

Mileage, [confidentially.] I say, Reynolds — we have to 
encourage the whiskey ring, for that is self-protection ! 

[They go to refreshment table. 

Jacob R. and Jerry come down through c. to front. 

Jacob R. They call this high life. It's too high for me, and 
I mean to leave for a healthier atmosphere. I'm going home 
tomorrow morning. 

Jerry. Sorry for that — for I'm having a jolly time. 



24 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. {_Act IIL 

Jacob R. You may stay a while longer. Till — till — well, 
when I come for you. But, Jerry, \conJidentially~\ keep your 
eyes and ears wide open. Do you understand ? 

Jerrt. \_winks at Jacob.] I'll bet I do ! 

Jacob K. [^speaks low.~\ Your uncle Mark is going to — to — 
the devil ! 

Jerry, [sees Mark drinking with Mileage.] He's having a 
jolly time of it ! 

Jacob R. Listen to me, Jerry : At the rate they are going 
on, they'll be ruined in less than a month. No fortune could 
stand such reckless extravagance. It would swamp an Astor in 
a twelvemonth. Keep your eyes open, and your wits about you, 
and write me every week. You hear me ? 

Jerry. I do. 

Jacob R. I am going to bed. \_Goes up, passes Mark, who 
invites him to drink, he declines, and disappears through L. D. — 
Jerry has loatched his exit.'] 

Jerry, [^solus] How does father know all that?. . .To be sure, 
they do go it rather strong here. There's cousin Clarence — he's 
got a fast nag that '11 go his mile in two-something — paid fifteen 
hundred for him. And cousin Florence — she's gone crazy with 
Colonel Coningsby. Ah ! I'll bet the Colonel is a sharp blade ! 
And aunt Sarah is riding all over town in her new carriage, 
with the darkey driver. 1 like her — she gives me lots of money. 
And uncle Mark is down in State .Street every day, buying and 
selling stock, and making no end of greenbacks. I can't see 

what father meant when he said uncle Mark was going [runs 

to table and helps himself.] 

The parly at the table become excited. — Alderman Sandboy 
comes suddenly to front, followed by Mileage. 

Sandboy. \_excited.~\ It's a downright swindle, sir ; and every 
one who voted for it knew it was a downright swindle. 

MiLEAGic. vSandboy — as an Alderman I respect you. But 
as a private individual, my opinion of you is — cipher-ous ! 

Green. Rather low figure of speech ! 

Sandboy. Your opinion ! Bah ! 

Mark R. Come, gentlemen, respect the high positions you 
both occupy. 

Mileage.. Oh — he's only an Alderman! 

Sandboy. Only an Alderman ! [indignant.] When I take 
into consideration your boasted humble origin, and your present 
status, — hang me if you 've not gone back to the primeval dirt ! 

Mileage, [offended dignity] Sandboy — it is true, I did com- 
mence life humbly, but I rose, sir, step by step, to the proud 



Scene 1.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 25 

position of a Representative of the People, sir. [warming up.'\ 
Yes, sir, I say it^-the People made me what I am — and the 
People can unmake me. Yes, sir. Thirty years, on and off, 
have I represented the famous Ninety-first District in the halls 
of Congress, sir ; and my honored associates were those great 
and magnificent Constellations of our American Republic, whose 
fame have been trumpet-tongued wherever civilization has a 
foothold, or language an utterance. I refer, gentlemen, to Mis- 
souri's famous mouthpiece — Tom Benton ; and Kentucky's dar- 
ling son — Harry Clay ; and — I mention him with reverence — 
the great Daniel Webster ! And let me tell you, sir — this 
country will never see their like again. 

Sandboy, [contemptuously'] That 's your opinion. Ha ! 

[Mileage tries to get at Sandboy, who dodges behind Green. 
— Music loud and lively ; the Company waltz out of centre 
and doors R. and L. — Mark R. seizes Mileage, Green takes 
Sandboy, and swing into the general confusion. — TJie music 
now comes to a tremendous finale.~\ 



end of act third. 



26 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. [Act IV. 



ACT FOURTH. 



SCENE I. 

Same as Scene 2, Act II. 

CoNiNGSBT discovered in chair near table c, smoJcing. 

CoNiNGSBY. Thirty-five is said to be the turning-point in a 
man's life, for good or evil. I have passed that age, and the 
Devil was just stamping his claim to me, vi^hen luck threw me at 
the feet of Florence Reynolds, who has saved me. I, Alfred 
Coningsby, self-named Colonel, famous for success at the shrine 
of Faro and of Love, confess myself the slave of a girl innocent 
of the first principles of female coquetry — if it has any princi- 
ples to boast of. \_pf'ffs.'\ Love is a curious sensation ! — and 
when it attacks a man already married, it sets him a thinking 
how he will manage to prevent his annihilation by the conflicting 
forces brought to bear upon him. 

Enter Servant (l.) iv/'th a 1 titer ; gives to Coningsby and exits. 

Ila! l_s(arts np, pjifs away cigar.'] From my wife! [^Tears it 
open and glances over.] Hell and fury — she is now in this city ! 
\_Eeads.] '■''My dear husband: I can bear our separation no 
longer ; life loithout your love is worse than death. For months 
I have travelled from city to city, in the hope of seeing you and to 
implore your reconciliation. O Alfred ! forget the cause of our 
separation. I am now tvilling to place you in full possession! of 
all my forttme, if you will only take me to your arms again." 
Never ! Never ! [^Dashes the letter to his feet and stamps on it.] 
I spurn your reconciliation ! Because I chose to risk my money 
at the gaming-table, you refused me a single dollar of your for- 
tune, and compelled me to leave my native city in disgrace. 
But now, when I am independent of your wealth, you seek me 
out and implore my return. And the reward — your fortune. 
Never ! [ Walks the stage ; picks up the letter and throws it on the 
table.] Ha ! let me see ! [stops; takes the letter.] You Vv^ill put me 
in possession of your whole fortune, [thinks.] Without money, 



Scene 1.] rise and pall op mark Reynolds. 27 

you will be powerless to annoy me. [^&larts.'] Ha ! men some- 
times seek the aid of science, when they wish to rid themselves 
of their wives. Why should not I ? The risk is great ; but 
Florence is my reward, [^glances at the letter.'] She is staying at 
the Compton House, [throws the letter on the tuhle, open.] Once 
free from her, I can marry Florence, and thereafter live in 
perpetual happiness. 

Enter Jerry, l. 

Ah, Jerry — good morning ! How goes it with you ? 

Jerry, \_giving letter.'] From Cousin Florence. I 'm to wait 
for an answer. [ Goes to table.] 

CoNiNGSBY. [going forward.] Take a seat, Jerry. 

[Jerry takes a cigar from tuhle and lights it ; sees the open 
letter ; takes it up and glances over ; lays it on table, writing 
downwards ; sits in chair, smoking.] 

[reads.] Dear Alfred : we are going a fexo miles out of town, in 
the carriage, this morning. Will you not accompany us? Please 
ansioer verbally by Jerry. Your affectionate Florence." That 's 
a model letter — and no postcript — which proves her a girl of 
remarkable sense, [turns and goes iip-] Tell youi* cousin Flor- 
ence I shall be pleased to go. I will be with her immediately. 

Jerry, [rising.] All right, Colonel. Stunning cigar this ! 

CoNiNGSBY. [taking letter from table and putting in pocket.] 
Yes ; they 're my own importation, direct from Havana — called 
the Coningsby brand, [takes cigars from holder.] Here, put these 
in your pocket. 

Jerry, [taking cigars.] Bully for you, Colonel, [going.] I '11 
tell Cousin Florence. [Exit L. 

Coningsby. When I never expected to see my wife again — 
for we separated in a devil of a passion — two years' absence has 
brought her to her senses, and she tracks me to this city, and 
appeals to my avarice to take her back again. Too late — too 
late. But I must see -her; and then — and then — [goirtg ^.] O 
Florence ! any sacrifice will I make for you ! 

[Exit R. 



28 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. [_Act IV. 



SCENE II. 

Ante- Room in Mark Reynold's House. 

Enter Jordan, followed by Pedro, l. 

Jordan. Tell Mr. Reynolds I must see him instantly. 

\_Exit Pedro, r. 
Confusion ! — When I thought we had the whole of the Roaring 
Well stock under our thumb, and we 'd squeeze Grabem and 
Fossit out of a hundred thousand dollai's, I 've just found out 
that the rascals have flooded the market with an over-issue, 
which will enable them to meet nearly all their calls. 

Enter Mark Reynolds, r. 

Reynolds — we are floored ! Grabem and Fossit have played us 
a villainous trick. 

Mark R. Just like them ! 

Jordan. An over-issue of twenty thousand shares of Roar- 
ing Well just come to light. 

Mark R. [excited.'] That 's rascally ! 

Jordan. So instead of our putting on the screws to them, 
they will have everything their own way, and send us to grief. 

Mark R. Whew ! I shall be two hundred thousand out ! 

Jordan. I have hedged all I could. 

Mark R. It 's too late for me. If I 'd known this only an 
hour ago. dear ! 

Jordan. I '11 go and see Fossit — perhaps I can make some 
arrangement whereby we can play into their hands. 

Mark R. [despairingly.'] Expect no favor from them. To- 
morrow was to have been our day. 

Jordan. We 've had our day to-day. 

Mark R. Grabem and Fossit know they 've got us where 
our hair is short, and they '11 shake the golden sparks from our 
pockets into theirs. 

Jordan. I '11 down to see them at once. [Exit l. 

Mark R. I'm vex-y much afraid I'm a used-up man — so far 
as money is concerned. Egad ! never was more certain of any 
thing than our " corner " in Roaring Well would net us at least 
a couple hundred thousand, when hey ! presto ! enter Grabem 
and Fossit, and knock us flat on our backs ! Well, so be it. It 
is astonishing how cute some rascals are ! [Exit R. 



Scene 2.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 29 

Enter Jerry, l. 

Jerry. I guess Cousin Florence would be all in a heap, if 
she only knew what I've seen. So the Colonel has got a wife 
already, and she 's staying at the Compton House. How lucky 
for Florence, and bad for the Colonel, that I can read writing. 
I bet I can put a big flee in Florence's ear that will buz music 
she wo n't like !. . . . I '11 just make a social call on Mrs. Colonel 
Coningsby, and see whether she's true blue or only bogus. 
\_going.'] What a fool the Colonel is, if he thinks he can manage 
two women at once ! \_^Exii R. 



SCENE III. 

Handsomely furnished Room in a Hotel. — Doors R. and L. — A 
table, R. c, ten feet forward of doors. — On table is a writiiig- 
desk, with books, Sfc. 

Madeline and Lucille seated n. and l. of table. — Madeline 
resting on table, absorbed in thought. 

Lucille, [l. oftable.^ So you think that when your husband 
receives your letter, urging his return to you, he will overlook 
your refusal to give him control of your fortune.'' 

Madeline. Now that he has renounced the gaming-table 
and resumed his profession of a lawyer, I shall be willing to 
place my fortune in his hands, if he will return to me. 

Lucille. Sister, he will not. He never loved you, or he 
would not have treated you so cruelly, and then deserted you. 

Madeline. The passion for gaming will for the time being 
change a man into a demon, and he renounces . wife, home, and 
all the ties that cluster round his heart, to the overpowering love 
that makes him the slave of gambling. 

Lucille. I have no faith in his reform. Your affection has 
blinded you to his wickedness. Recall to mind the sad events 
of two short years. Our dear father's death, leaving us prop- 
erty in New Orleans that makes us wealthy; our acquaintance 
with Alfred Coningsby — then a lawyer, to whom father had 
recommended, to manage the estate. His proposal to you — 
your marriage ; your brief happiness changed to sorrow, when 
you found yourself a gambler's wife. His business neglected — 
his whole time devoted to his passion for play. Finally, when I 
3* 



30 RISE AND FALL OP MARK REYNOLDS. [Act IV. 

urged you to refuse him any further sums to squander in dissi- 
pation, then his cruelty towards you, which brought on a sickness 
that for days you seemed on the brink of death. And when 
you recovered, it was to learn that your husband had left New 
Orleans in disgrace — shunned and despised by all his acquaint- 
ances — and with the reputation of a desperate gambler, who 
would shrink at no means, however dishonorable, to satisfy his 
inordinate passion. [Madeline weeps.'] Shall I go on, and 
follow his career from city to city ? — here a gambler, and there a 
seducer of innocence. 

Madeline. Lucille ! No more — no more ! 

Lucille. Is the record not true ? 

Madeline. Alas ! alas ! 

Lucille. If he consents to return to you, it will be for the 
purpose of wringing further sums from your weakness in his 
favor, [rises and turns to Madeline.] Madeline, I implore you, 
ca'fet hira from you ; his heart is a stranger to every sentiment of 
love or honor 1 

Madeline, [wrought up to fury, she rises, and advances to- 
Lucille.] Lucille ! sister ! — Not a word more ! — He is my 
husband still ! [ Overpowered with emotion.'] 

[Lucille gives her a pitying look, and slowly exits through R. d.] 

[Madeline looks up, sees herself alone.] Lucille never knew 
a wife's love for her husband, or she would not have judged my 
Alfred so harshly. 

JEnter Servant with a card on a salver, presents to Madeline. 

Show the gentlemen up. [Exit Servant. 

[Rapturously.] It is him ! — my dear Alfred ! My husband ! I 
shall see him now! Oh! — how I have looked forward to this 
moment ! 

• Enter Coningsbt, l. d. 

[He advances hut a few stejjs, in doubt of his reception.'] 

Madeline. My husband ! [Rushes to him.] 

CoNiNGSBY. [opens his arms.] My wife ! [Embrace.] 

Madeline, [on C.'s bosoyn.] Speak to me, Alfred — say that 
•you love me still, and forgive me ! 

Coningsbt. It is I that should ask forgiveness. 

Madeline. No, no. [looks at him at arm's length.] O Alfred ! 
Can it be, you are with me again ! 

Coningsbt. And never to part. 

Madeline, [searchingly.] Never? Never. 



Scene 3.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 31 

CoNiNGSBY. If you can freely forgive me. 

Madeline. From ray heart I say it — I do forgive you — and 
pray that I may live in your love again ! 

Coningsby. May this seal our reconciliation, \kisses her.'\ 
Henceforth we will so live that the joys of the present shall 
obliterate the sorrowful memories of the past. 

Madeline. Alfred — I felt it was ray duty to make the first 
advances toward our reconciliation ; and to show you that my 
confidence in you is sincere, I have executed a deed of convey- 
ance in your favor, of all my property in my own right, which I 
now possess, — that nothing may ever occur again, to disturb our 
happiness. 

Coningsby. Noble, generous wife ! My ambition will be to 
merit your generous confidence. 

Madeline. I have the deed close at hand, \_goes to table and 
takes it out of writiny desk and returns.^ Here it is. \_gives to 
him.~\ It was drawn up by an able lawyer like yourself. 

[Coningsby looks over the deed. — Lucille enters from R. d. ; 
stops on seeing theni.'\ 

Coningsby. [folds the paper and offers to Madeline.] My 
dear Madeline, 1 cannot accept this. It places your whole for- 
tune in my hands. 

Madeline, [^refusing it.'] I ought to have done this on our 
wedding day. 

Coningsby. Let ray future conduct first prove that I am 
worthy of your love and confidence. 

Madeline. Accept it as a pledge of our reconciliation. 

Coningsby. As you wish, my Madeline. \^Pats it in breast 
pocket.] Now I must tell you about myself. [Madeline puts 
her arm within his.] I am employed by the Universal Telegraph 
Company of New York, as their Solicitor, at a most munificent 
salary. I am now in this city on business connected with their 
affairs, which I hope to finish in a day or two, and then return 
to New York, where you will accompany me. How does that 
please you ? 

Madeline. With you, Alfred, it matters not where I go or 
dwell. [Lucille disappears r. d. 

Coningsby. Nobly spoken ! We will have some wine, and 
drink to our happy reconciliation. \_Goes to R. and pulls bell-rope] 

Enter Servant. 

A bottle of Sparkling Catawba. \_Exit Servant. 



32 RISE AND PALL OP MARK REYNOLDS. \_Act. IV. 

[Madeline goes to table and clears it for the ivine. — Coningsby 
takes blue paper out of vest pocket, glances at it, then toioards 
Madeline at table.'] 

Coningsby. [^aside.] I came prepared. In five minutes after 
this is taken, death ensues. I am determined to dare the risk. 
Once rid of her, and in possession of all her property, I can 
marry Florence, and ever after hold up my head with the best. 

[Coningsby goes toward table cts Servant enters with waiter con- 
taining bottle of Catawba and tioo glasses, which he places on 
table and exits. — Coningsby l. of table, facing /"roM<.— Mad- 
line R. of table, her attention directed from Coningsby.] 

Enter Phebe, l. d. — She stops suddenly on seeing them. 

Phebe. [aside.] Mr. Coningsby — her husband. [Coningsby 
empties contents of blue paper into glass with left hand and pours 
out the ivine into both glasses loith his rigid ; throws paper behind 
him.] Ah ! he put something in the glass ! Perhaps poison ! — 
[advances a step, and stands horror-struck as she sees Coningsby 
pass the glass to Madeline. — They advance a step, with glasses. 
Phebe advances to c. — They touch glasses.] 

Coningsby. Here 's to our happy reconciliation ! 
Madeline, [looking up.] May He smile on us ! 

[As Madeline raises the glass to her lips, Phebe rushes to her.] 

Phebe. Stop ! — that wine is poisoned ! 

Madeline, [turns in affright.] Poisoned! [Puts glass on 
table.] 

Coningsby. [Takes tioo steps forward, di-ops his glass, and 
turns to Phebe.] Hell and fury ! — Who are you ? 

Lucille rushes in through R. d. 

Phebe. [to Lucille.] I saw him put a powder in that wine ! 

[Madeline near l. chair, her hands clasped.] 

Lucille, [c] Alfred Coningsby ! 

Coningsby. [furious.] It is a lie ! Give me the wine ; 
[advances toward table.] I will drink it ! 

Phebe. [seizes the glass and retreats.] You dare not ! 

Lucille, [c, intercepts hirn.] That wine shall convict you of 
the foul crime of attempting the life of her you have so cruelly 
wronged ! [to Phebe.] Guard it well. 



Scene 3.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 33 

[^5 CoNiNGSBY rus/ies toioard Phebe (l.), Lucille draws a 
stiletto and points to kim.^ 

Stop ! . . . . Another step, and I'll plunge this to your heart ! 

CoNiNGSBY. [^crosses stage, and ttcrns.^ Assassin ! 

Lucille, [^crosses to hiryi.^ Alfred Coningsby ! You shall 
pay dearly for this ! It is me you have to deal with now !. . . . 
Deliver up that paper ! 

Coningsby. I shall not. 

Lucille. You will ! [threatingly.'\ Now — this instant — or I 
strike ! [raises her arm.^ Quick ! — the paper ! 

[Coningsby takes out the paper, dashes it to the jioor, rushes to 
Phebe, strikes the wine-glass from her hand~\ — 

Coningsby. Curses on you all ! [Rushes through l. d. 

[Madeline drops, fainting, in chair. — Lucille and Phebe 
rush to her.'] 

Lucille, [falls on her knees and clasps Madeline.] Madeline ! 
Sister ! You are saved ! 

Phebe. [her hands clasped, face turned upward.] Saved! 



tableau. 



[ Ourtain slowly falls to sad music. 



EBTD OF ACT FOURTH. 



34 RISE AND FALL OP MARK REYNOLDS. {_Act V. 



ACT FIFTH. 



SCENE I. 

Same as Scene 1, Act I. 

Florence discovered on sofa, l. ; Mrs. R. in easy chair at r. ; 
Clarence at her r. ; Mark R. at l. c. ; Jerry at r. — All 
jare looking at Jerry. 

Jerry. When I got to the Corapton House, to see the lady 
who called herself Mrs. Coningsby, I met the Colonel just leav- 
ing the house, and he was awfully stirred u\). I soon found out 
the cause of it. He had been detected in trying to poison his 
wife. 

Mrs. R. Poison his wife ! [Florence affected.'] 

Jerry. He put poison in some wine she was going to drink. 

Florence. It's a base slander, from first to last. 

Mark R. Who told you that ? 

Jerry. A young lady I saw there, named Phebe. 

Clarence, [aside.'] My Phebe ! 

Mrs. R. Did you see the Colonel's wife ? 

Jerry. No. Miss Phebe told me to call again. 

Mark R. [douhtfal.] Humph ! 

Florence. It is a vile, wicked plot to ruin Alfred ! 

Mrs. R. The bare idea of such a thing is horrible ! 

Mark R. Clarence, what do you think ? 

Clarence. Do n't know what to think. May be true ; and 
then again it may not. 

jMark R. [severely.] Jerry-^beware how you trifle with us. 
This is a serious charge to make. 

Jerry. [Jiur't.] Indeed, uncle Mark — it is the solemn truth. 

[Mark convinced ; he crosses to r.] 

Florence. I '11 never believe it. 

Mrs. R. I hereby renounce all confidence in mankind ! 

[Jerry goes up the stage.] 



Scene 1.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 35 

\^The door-hell heard. — They all listen.'] 

'T is the Colonel ! \_General surprise. — Florence rises, pleased, 
crosses to R. — Jerry runs off r. d.] 

Clarence. By Jove — he's a cool one ! 

Mark R. I wish some one would tell me what to do ! 

Mrs. R. Do nothing. 

Florence, I knew it was a wicked slander. 

Enter Coningsby (l.), very nicely got up. 

CoNiNGSBY. [lowing.'] Good morning, all. [Florence goes 
to him.] You are looking a trifle pale, my Florence. Nothing 
the matter I hope. \_His arm on her waist, they go up the stage.] 

Mark R. [to Mrs. B.] Damnably cool ! What shall I do ? 

[Confusion without. — A voice, " He's here; I saw him just 
enter." — Mark and Mrs. R. exchange glances. — Coningsby 
looks toward L. E.] 

JEJnter Sharp, l. 

Sharp. Alfred Coningsby ! [ Goes to Coningsby. — Flor- 
ence goes to Mrs. R. — Mark to front.] I want you, sir ! 

Coningsby. (c.) Me, sir ? Beg pardon — you 've made a 
slight mistake. 

Sharp. Never made a mistake in my life. It is n't legal. 
Perhaps you don't know who I am ? My name is Sharp — 
Detective Sharp — Station four. I arrest you for attempting to 
poison your wife. 

[FLORENtiE screams and faints.] 

Coningsby. [<o Sharp.] See what you've done! [Goes to 
Florence. — Mrs. R. and Clarence supporting her.] 

Mrs. R. [to Coningsby.] Stand off, sir ! Do n't you dare to 
touch my daughter ! [He stands C. abashed.] 

Sharp, [goes to Mark.] He. was detected in the very act. 
[ Converses with Mark aside.] 

Florence, [conscious.] O Alfred — Alfred ! That it should 
come to this ! To so cruelly deceive me ! [weeps.] Leave me I 
Leave me ! My heart will break ! [Falls on Mrs. R.'s bosom.] 

Sharp, [to Coningsby.] Come, sir; the sooner I introduce 
you to headquarters, the prouder I shall be. 

[Coningsby slowly moves forward to l., then turns to Flor- 
ence, and with feeling — ] 

Coningsby. Florence ! forgive me. It was love for you 
that drove me to it ! Farewell ! — farewell ! [overcome.] 

[Exeunt Coningsby and Sharp, l. 



36 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. \^Act V. 

[ TTiey all seem transjixed at what has occurred. — Florence 
weeps on Mrs. R.'s bosom.^ 

Florence, [^looks up ; around.'] Gone ! Alfred gone ! — and 
gone forever ! O mother — it will break my heart ! [overcome.'] 
Clarence. Hang me, if it has n't given me the horrors ! 

[Exit L. 

Enter Pedro, l., hands letter to Mark, and exits. 

Mark R. [reads."] '■^ Dear Reynolds : Just received a- telegram 
from Oil City, that the '■^Roaring Well" has ceased flowing, and 
probably is exhausted. Stock consequently worthless. Will see 
you as soon as possible. Toui's truly, Robert Jordan." [ticrns.] 
Misfortunes never come singly : • Wife, daughter — you see before 
you a ruined man ! 

Mrs. R. What ! 

Mark R. I've lost all my money — all I'm worth. 

[Florence crosses to sofa and sits absorbed.] 

Mrs. R. [hysterical.] What do you mean ? 

Mark R. The Roaring Well has collapsed. 

Mrs. R. The Roaring Well failed ? 

Mark R. All gone to the devil ! — or further still ! 

Mrs. R. Mai-k — why did you not tell me before ! 

Mark R. This note, from Mr. Jordan, gives me the first 
information of it. 

Mrs. R. What are we to do now ? 

Mark. I shall have to go to work again. 

Mrs. R. Work! O Florence — you hear that?. ... But we 
keep this house ? 
. Mark R. Until we are ordered to move. 

Mrs. R. Do you mean to say this house is sold ? 

Mark R. Got a mortgage on it so heavy as to sink it out of 
our reach. 

Mrs. R. [disconsolate.] What will Mrs. Wormly say ! 

When I thought we were settled for life ! 

Mark R. I think we are — pretty effectually, too ! 

Mrs. R. And just as I had set up my carriage, too ! O dear, 
— you men can easily shift for yourselves, — but we [sighs.] 



Re-enter Pedro, l. 

an. 

ence.] My dear girl 
Never a wound Avithout its balm. [Florence rises.] 



Pedro. Mr. Jordan. [Exit. 

Mrs. R. [to Florence.] My dear girl, do dry your eyes. 



Scene 1.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 37 



Enter Jordan, l. 

\^He goes to Mark, shakes hands silently ; then to Mrs. R. and 
does the same ; then to Florence and does the same ; then to 
front, takes out folded handkerchief and wipes each eye, and 
returns to pocketJ] 

Jordan. Friend Reynolds — please accept my sympathy. I 
too have lost heavily by the Roaring Well. But I'll not intrude 
my griefs on this melancholy occasion. All I can say, and what 
I will say, is this : I have a respectable sum on deposit at the 
Bank ; perhaps it 's twenty thousand dollars — may not be over 
nineteen thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine dollars odd. 
Whatever it is, I say take one half, and try your luck again. 
[Mrs. R. nods approvingly to Florence.] 

Mark R. Dear Jordan, you 're a noble fellow. I shall not 
accept your handsome offer ; I have had enough of speculation. 
Had I taken your advice — 

Jordan. And hedged. 

Mark R. Perhaps I might have saved a pretty sum. 

Jordan. Twenty thousand, at least. [Mrs. R. indignant.'] 

Mark R. But that is now past. I am not cast down ; I 
have health and a good name — that 's a fortune to its possessor ; 
and no man can say I ever wronged him out of a single dollar. 

Jordan. I '11 swear to that. 

Mark R. I have formed my plans for the future ; and the 
sooner I put them into shape, the better it will be. Come with 
me to the library, \_going'] I want to consult you. 

\_Exeunt Mark R. and Jordan, r. 

[Mrs. R. and Florence advance, look at each other in silence.'] 

Mrs. R. [long sigh.] Well, Florence. 

Florence, \_pensive.] Alas ! poor me ! 

Mrs. R. My dear child — we must cheerfully submit to the 
decrees of Providence. When you reach my time of life you'll 

find " this world is all a fleeting show." And now 

that somebody has proved so unworthy, perhaps a certain other 
gentleman will seek the opportunity — I'll not say what for. 

Florence. Spare my feelings ! I shall always respect Mr. 
Jordan as a friend. [Turns aside.] 

Mrs. R. To be sure, it is only a short time ago that you 
refused him ; but Mr. Jordan is familiar with the usages of good 
society, and knows that your refusal is one of the privileges of 
our sex ; — and the Lord knows we have but few privileges to 
boast of ! 

4 



38 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. \^Act V. 

Florence. Colonel Coningsby has certainly forfeited all 
claims to my friendship, by his cruel deception. 

Mrs. R. How generous in Mr. Jordan ! But it did not sur- 
prise me. I always knew he had a heart ! 

Florence. \_thinking~\ And we have known him so many, 
many years. 

Mrs. R. Not that I would wish to influence you in his favor. 
Mr. Jordan needs no recommendation from me ! 

Re-enter Mark R. and Jordan, r. 

[Pedro comes tlirough R. d. and announces dinner.^ 

Mrs. R. You will dine with us, Mr. Jordan ? 

Jordan. Thank you ; not to-day. 

Mark R. Of course you will. 

Jordan. \Jiesitates.'] Some other time, perhaps. 

Mark R, Nonsense. No time like the present time. 

Florence, [loith naivete.'] Mr. Jordan will not refuse me ! 

Jordan, [quickly] Certainly not. How could I ? 

[Mark and Jordan exeunt r. d. 
Mrs. R. [^pattinr/ Florence on the cheek.] Admirable ! my 
dear. You 're an honor to your sex ! 

[Exeunt Mrs. R. and Florence, r. d. 



SCENE II. 

Ante-room in a Hotel. 

Mnter Lucille and Phebe, p., in traveling dresses. 

Lucille. My dear Phebe : in one hour we shall leave here 
for our home in New Orleans, where you have consented to 
accompany us. And there you will always live with us, as our 
dear sistei", and share our ample fortune. 

Phebe. [^affected] Dear Lucille — my life shall be devoted to 
you and Madeline. I can never repay you for your kindness, in 
that hour of my despair, when I sought to end my misery by 
suicide. It was your generosity and sympathy that awakened 
me to a new life, and taught me tliat no grief is so great that 
kindness will not assuage. The gratitude of a poor orphan girl 
shall never fail you, in prosperity or adversity, or in any change 
of fortune that may ever befall you. 

Lucille, [^embracing her] It is to j'ou that Madeline owes 
her escape from a cruel death. Another second, and she would 



Scene 2.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 39 

liave taken the poisoned wine — and her death would have fol- 
lowed immediately. Your fortunate presence saved her. She is 
now convinced of her husband's insatiable wickedness. [^xiV r. 
Phe3E. (r.) Alas ! though my heart still bears the anguish 
of sorrow, yet I would that I might see Clarence once more, 
before leaving this city forever. [ Weeps.^ 

Miter Clarence, l. 

Clarence. [humWy'] Phebe ! 

Phebe. [starts~\ That voice ! {turns slowly.'] Clarence ! 

Clarence. I have come to see you. 

Phebe. [lool:s aside.'] Well : . . . . 

Clarence, [approaches her.] I have come to ask your for- 
giveness, for my cruel desertion. 

Phebe. It was indeed cruel ! 

Clarence, Keenly have I suffered for it ! Believe me, 
Phebe, my conscience has upbraided me unceasingly ; and since 
our last interview, every anticipated enjoyment has been haunted 
by the conviction of my inhumanity to you. Phebe ! I im- 
plore you — grant me your forgiveness. 

Phebe. [calmly.] Clarence, I do forgive you. 

Clarenck. Will you again accept me as your affianced hus- 
band ? [hows humbly.] 

Phebe. [clasps her hands, overcome iinth emotion ; aside.] O 
God I strengthen my heart ! [turns slowly to Clar.] I cannot ! 

Clarence. O Phebe ! — say not so ! Think of me as I was, 
and the happy hours we have spent together, before my unfor- 
tunate desertion. 

Phebe. [tu7-ns to him, and sadly.] Clarence ! God only 
knows how much I loved you, and what my sufferings have been 
from your betrayal. Look back but two years since, when first 
Ave met. I was then a poor, weak girl, with no kind mother to 
turn for guidance and advice. I listened to your love, and 
ere long gave you my whole heart, for I trusted in the sincerity 
of your devotion. But you took a mean advantage of my love 
for you. And when I could no longer bear the misery of my 
condition, I implored and begged you to fulfil your solemn 
promises, and make me your wife. You refused, and basely 
deserted me. In that hour of my (Jespair — turned away in 
disgrace by my emploj'er, without means to live from day to 
day, bereft of home and all I held dear — it was then I tried to 
hide raj'^ shame by self-destruction. But it was not so to be. 
Providence sent me kind friends, and they opened their hearts 
to compassion ; it was enough for them that I needed kindly 



40 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. [Acf. V. 

sympathy and protection, to prepare me for my approaching 
trial. They gave it with a generous hand. The hour came ! — 
[overcome'] Death took one, and left the other ! . . . . Need I tell 
you those friends are very dear to me !....! shall never leave 
them. 

Clarence, [m despair.'] Do not say that — I implore you I 
Phebe. Clarence ! — I dare not trust my happiness to your 
keeping. Look back on the past ! You have been " weighed 
in the balance, and found wanting !" Farewell forever ! \_She 
waves an adieu and exits (r.) in tears.~\ 

Clarence, [crosses to r.] Phebe ! Phebe ! [returns to c.j 
Too late ! Oh! why was I ever false to her! Remorse! — 
Remorse ! — I feel its crushing weight upon me ! [Exit l. 



SCE NE III. 

Same as Scene 1, Act V. 

Enter Jacob Reynolds, l. 

Jacob R. Well ; here I am again — and sooner than I ex- 
pected ; that 's a fact. Got a telegram from Jerry at ten o'clock 
this morning. Dropped my plough, and left the old mare to find 
her way back to the barn ; had just twenty-five minutes to slick 
myself up, and catch the eleven o'clock express. [Feels in his 
pockets.] What did I do with that telegram? [Takes it out and 
reads.] "-4 despatch teas received at this office from' Boston, as 
follows : Dear dad — come quick — Uncle Mark has flummuxed, 
and the Colonel has turned out a bad egg. — Jerry." [Refolds tele- 
gram and returns to pocket.] Flummuxed ! What with harum 
scarum speculations in bogus oil stocks, and reckless extrava- 
gance and dissipation, of course he 'd flummux ! Any one would 
flummux. Knew how it would end, and can't say I'm sorry for 
it, neither, [looks off stage at r. d.] Here they come ! — and 
still mounted on the same high horse ! 

Enter (r. d.) Mark and Mrs. R., Jordan and Florence. 

[They are in high spirits.] 

[Mrs. R., Jordan, and Florence, go up stage and converse.] 

Mark R. Ah, Jacob ! — glad to see you ! [ihey shake hands.] 
Jacob R. Daresay, [nods toward Mrs. R.] Thought I'd 

just come down, and see how you all did, as farming is kind o' 

slack just now. 



Scene 3.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 41 

Mark R. Have you dined ? 

Jacob R. Three liours ago, — Most ready for supper, \loohs 
round.'] I do n't see my Jerry. 

Mark R. He's eating his dinner. Wonderful appetite that 
boy has ! Fish, flesh, fowl, puddings, pies, and sweets — they all 
disappear with astonishing rapidity. The digestion of an ostrich, 
and the vim of a fighting cock ! 

Jacob R. [proudly.] Would n't take a mint o' money for that 
boy, — he's so handy about the farm. You ought to see him 
drive my two-year old steers ! They know his " Gee ! — star ! — 

buck!" [imitating] and they mind it, too Well, Mark — 

getting on pretty well, eh ? 

Mark R. [dryly.] Pretty well, Jacob. 

Jacob R. How 's the Roaring Well? 

Mark R. Gone to the devil ! 

Jacob R. Kind o' gin eout ! — eh? 

Mark R. It swallowed two hundred thousand dollars from me. 

Jacob R. [astonished.] 8-h-o-o-w ! 

Mark R. It has cleaned me all out ! 

Jacob R. [loohs at Mark earnestly.] Brother Mark — you 've 
been a darned fool ! 

Mark R. I have come to my senses at last ! 

Jacob R. What are you going to do now ? 

Mark R. Work. 

Jacob R. That's a good beginning. It has n't broken your 
spirit, I see. 

Mark R. [confidentially.] To tell the truth — I have n't seen 
a happy day since I sold out my old shop. [Jacob is pleased.] 

It's a fact, Jacob There's Clarence: — you'd be surprised 

at the amount of money that boy has spent ; and it is n't the 
money I care for, either — but the bad company he 's got into. — 
I shall shut down on him at once. Not another cent will he get 
from me. And Florence — [points over his shuidder] was to 
have been married, in a few days, to Colonel Coningsby, — one of 
those dashing, handsome fellows, all the women doat on — but he 
has turned out a scoundrel ; — had a wife already, and tried to 
poison her. Was arrested here, a few hours ago. 

Jacob R. S-h-o-o-w ! Sounds just like a " Ledger" story. 

Mark R. You see just how I feel about my losses. 

Jacob R. And you 've really made up your mind to go back 
to your old trade. 

Mark R. Yes, I have — if I can raise enough money to buy 
back my old stand. Griffith is willing to sell, for cash down, as 
he vrants to go to California. 

Jacob R. I guess I can help you to something toward it. 



42 rise and fall of mark reynolds. [act v. 

Mark R. You ? 

Jacob R. You remember the five thousand you lent me, to 
buy the farm side of mine ? 

Mark R. Lent you ! I gave it to you. 

Jacob R. No, you did n't ! And I 've got it all here ! {^He 
takes out Jive U. S. Gove7-nment bonds, ivith the Coupons uncut.'] 
There ! They are worth five thousand dollars, and the coupons 
extra. \_Hands to Mark.] 

Mark R. [refusiny them.'] No, no, Jacob ! I gave you the 
five thousand, and you're welcome to it. 

Jacob R. [vehemently.] Brother Mark — do n't rile me ! Re- 
collect, I've licked you a good many times, when we were boys, 
and I can do it now, — only I do n't want to. When you lent me 
that five thousand, I went right off and got these ere Uncle 
Sam's promises to pay. [Thrusts them on Mark.] 

Mark R. But the. farm you were going to buy? 

Jacob R. [laughinr/.] All moonshine ! Put them in your 
pocket, and say nothing to nobody. They will be a nest-egg to 
begin with again. 

Mark R. Jacob, I ought to call you a dai-ned fool, for not 
doing as every one else would. 

Jacob R. How is that? 

Mark R. Entirely forgotten the whole transaction. 



Enter Jerry, slowly, r. d. 

Jerry, [sees Jacob.] Hullo, dad ! 

Jacob R. Glad to see you, Jerry. [Shakes hands ; observes 
Jerry's clothes.] How spruce you look ! Quite a dandy. 

Jerry, [country drawl.] Ilaow 's all the folks ? . 

J.A.COB R. Middling. Want to go home? 

Jerry. No, I do n't. 

Mark R. I want that boy. 

Jacob R. You ca n't have him ; he 's not for sale. 

Mark R. He 's a good boy. I '11 chalk his back for all 
time to come. 

[Jacob and Jerry go up and converse.] 

Enter Clarence, ('l.) dejected. 

Mark R. [severely.] Well, sir ; I've got some news to tell 
you. I have lost all my money. You'll now have to go to work, 
and earn your own living. Not another cent do you get from 
me ! I've been bamboozled by your extravagance quite long 
enough ! No more fast horses — no more clubs, billiards, or 



Scene 3.] rise and fall of mark Reynolds. 43 

other dissipation. You 've run a pretty rig the last six months ! 
I have heard of your shameful treatment of poor Phebe ! That 
base act should have sent you to the gallows ! Yes, sir ! — to the 
gallows ! \_In great passion.'] You deserve it ! 

Clarence, \_ajfected.'] I acknowledge it. I have been to see 
her. I offered her all the reparation in my power. 

Mark R. To marry her ? 

Clarence. Yes, sir. But she would not. 

Mark R. A noble girl! Yes, more than that — for not 
accepting a marriage with one who sought to ruin her. 

Clarence. She has gone to New Orleans. I shall never 
see her again. [ Turns aside.] 

Mark R. [^softened.] Let it prove a lesson that you will not 
forget. The betrayal of that love which is blind to its own 
danger, will re-act on the betrayer in bitter sorrow and remorse. 
Let your future conduct prove the sincerity of your repentance. 

Clarence. It certainly shall. \_ Goes up.] 

Jordan ./ea^es Florence and goes to Mark. 

Jordan. Ah — um — friend Reynolds — you see — the fact is — 
\_aside.] How shall I begin ? 

Mark R. [teasingly.] The fact is what ? 

Jordan. You see, 1 and Florence. No, no — Florence and 
I — have 

Mark R. [^pokes Jordan.] Sly rogue ! You 've hedged ! 

Jordan. Lhave convinced Florence that she would be justi- 
fied in accepting me, — a certain person having proved unworthy 
— and she has consented, if you 've ho objection. 

Mark R. I shall be proud of you for a son-in-law. But 
I've lost all my money. I can give her only my blessing ; and 
that is not negotiable. 

Jordan. You know I've got twenty 

Mark R. I don't care what you've got, or what you have n't 
got — but I know you're an honest man. That's your best 
recommendation. 

Mrs. R. and Florence advance. 

Florence is a good girl — though I'm afraid she's got some high 
notions. However, with proper training, — 

Florence, [i-eprovingly.] Father ! 

Mrs. R. Proper training, indeed ! She has had the benefit 
of ray instruction. Besides, her accomplishments of fashionable 
society ■ 



44 RISE AND FALL OF MARK REYNOLDS. \^Aci V. 

Mark R. Fashionable humbug! Bah! I've had enough 
of that nonsense. The loss of my money has restored me my 
reason. I see now what a ridiculous figure we have all been 
making. To-morrow I am going to commence where I left off, 
six months ago. I shall buy back my old shop. 

Jacob and Jerry advance at R. 

Mrs. R. a locksmith again ! 

Mark R. Yes, wife — a locksmith again — and a locksmith 
forever ! 

Mrs. R. [(tside.'] What will Mrs. Wormly say ! 

Mark R. For twenty years it supported us all in comfort, 
and I was a blockhead to have ever left it ! 

Jacob R. We are all liable to mistakes. Every day brings 
to light a hundred cases like this of yours, all with the same result. 
Nature cut you out for a locksmith, and you prospered by it. 
As a. speculator, you have flumrauxed ! It's a good thing to 
have the conceit taken out of us ! We thrive the better for it. 

Mark R. Right ! brother Jacob. As a speculator I have 
flummuxed ; but I saved my reputation of an honest man, which 
I prize above silver and gold. When I look around and see 
men practising every dishonorable means, to increase their 
already besotten wealth, I ask myself — I ask them — will it pay ? 
Present losses are often prospective gains. I cheerfully accept 
my situation. I long to buckle on my old apron, and commence 
my work anew I [^advances.~\ Let all profit by my experience : 
Stick to your honest calling ! Remember The Rise and Fall 
of Mark Reynolds ! 



R. L. 

Jerry. Jacob. Mrs. R. Mark. Flor. Jord. Clar. 



CURTAIN falls. 



